


Seasons

by sofa_and_stuff



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Death, Dying Reader, GN!READER, HQ! - Freeform, Haikyu - Freeform, Haikyuu - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Other, gender neutral reader, haikyu!! - Freeform, haikyuu!! - Freeform, hq!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofa_and_stuff/pseuds/sofa_and_stuff
Summary: The changing seasons of Bokuto Koutarou’s life.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Seasons

Your heart found its home in Bokuto’s hands. He held it carefully, touch soft and delicate. First love is often just that—soft and delicate, tentative. Reticent glances timidly cast toward each other, small smiles gracing your lips.

You met him in the spring, cherry blossoms in full bloom, air heavy with pollen and fresh hope for the new year.

You were younger then, still kids. Both in your last year of junior high, bodies awkward and thoughts all jumbled.

You were a new student, just moved, whole life uprooted. Bokuto was the first person to talk to you. _Lucky_ , you would call yourself later on, recalling how Bokuto became your first friend. Your first love, too.

You followed him to high school, growing close in the year you’d met, closer even still in the short break before starting at Fukurodani.

You grew together in the years that followed, bodies less awkward, smiles more broad, less hesitant.

First love is soft and delicate, tentative. But this was more. This was sharp, hard, heavy to bear.

You left him in autumn, dead blossoms dusting the ground, his throat chock full of choked back sobs, chest heavy with grief.

He was older now, a man burdened by death. In your last year of life, your shoulders weighed down, a body once strong and sturdy now slowly becoming awkward again, bones jutting out, face gaunt and skin sagging, he’d held your heart in his hands as carefully as he could. Touched you like you could break. Beaming smiles lost to fervent, longing looks and silent tears.

_Lucky_ , you’d told him last spring, _that you'd made it this far_. Your last spring, standing under cherry blossoms with him, hand in his, he knew that you would be his last love. _Our last spring_ , he’d recall later on, eyes clouded by unshed tears.

He wanted to follow you, like you’d followed him to Fukurodani years ago. How could he not? You were gone. His hands were empty now, a home without a heart.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be fluff, but then I got sad and decided to turn it into angst. Enjoy my vague angsty brainrot with absolutely zero characterization.


End file.
